


on the road to everywhere

by bottledlogic



Series: corporate synchronicity (or, the trick to getting along) [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Gen, Grudging friendship, snarky conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:59:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3861073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottledlogic/pseuds/bottledlogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She'll probably never admit it aloud, but she'll miss the coffee, the views, and maybe the egotistical billionaire behind it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	on the road to everywhere

Her room is almost empty – the remains of her brief stint in corporate life shoved into a sleek black suitcase, her laptops and tablets on her bed with finished reports on every screen, martini and wine glasses lining the ledge of the expansive windows, weapons removed from various hiding spots –

She’s double-checking the lining of her closet when she hears a forceful knock on the door.

“Come in,” she calls, muffled.

She steps out, coming face to face with Tony Stark. “I’m about to leave, and you only start knocking _now_?”

“I’m only knocking _because_ you’re leaving. JARVIS has been more than sufficient when you were here,” he retorts, surveying the room. “Typical spy, you and all your shady hidey-holes.”

“The less you know, the better,” she responds. “This is nowhere near as bad as Romanoff’s or Barton’s.”

“Ah, the private sector has mellowed you,” he says with a smug grin. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Fury. I’m sure you’ll be back to your hyper-competent icy bitch-queen self in no time.”

She rolls her eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Stark.”

“Although, if you ever end up working here again,” he continues, “let me know if and when you’re actually working for someone else, yeah? Communication is a great thing.”

She pauses, disassembling the gun in her hands with steady methodical fingers, moving onto her set of knives and placing them in their respective sheaths. Minutes pass, and he stands, watching her clean and check her tools.

“You know how it is, Stark,” she says finally. “I have secrets. You find them out.”

He scoffs in agreement. “I guess it really doesn’t change. Saving the world, a spy and a lie at a time.”

“Look, Fury talked to you first, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, it was a real privilege. Although, you know, given how half the team already knew…”

“ _He talked to you_. Don’t ignore that,” she says. “You do what has to be done.”

“Yeah.”

He looks away, choosing to tilt his head back and inspect the ceiling while she shuts down her devices one by one. He imagines and maps out new schematics in his head, visualising their projection on the white expanse, different interfaces and connections, faster and faster and more efficient, physics and mechanics and the sheer fluidity of it all, honest approaches and everything, still thinking always thinking—

“Tony.”

He jerks his head forward to meet her eyes.

“It was a noble idea.”

“What was?”

“An AI to save and protect the world, including yourselves,” she says quietly. “Won’t ever work, though.”

“Clearly,” he snorts. “Didn’t you guys have your own version as well? With Insight? That turned out fucking brilliantly.”

“They were different ideas, different angles,” she says, voice flat. “Yours—”

“—Hill, I get it, you can stop,” he snaps. “I just wanted—”

“—Wanted your friends alive, no fight to end, no chance for another Battle of New York,” she cuts in. “I know. What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing for the last three years?”

Tony looks over at her properly – former Deputy Director, his Head of Special Taskforces – and sees the bitter determination in her steel eyes. He remembers the late nights and endless streams of coffee and alcohol, remembers the urgent phone calls and harried reminders sent to their phones and stuck to the common room fridge. Remembers Pepper doing her best to get her out of the office before the day started again.

“It’s ironic. Machines don’t last, but the rest of the human race?” He laughs humourlessly, “I really should just go and buy a farm.”

“And yet, you’re going to be back creating god-knows-what and pissing us off,” she says bluntly with a faint smile.

“That’s probably true,” he says. “Look, you’re not bad yourself, despite your irritating tendency to keep all the world’s fucking secrets. And you’ve got Rogers and Rhodey and Romanoff. Your people should be enough.”

She nods, zipping up her suitcase and sliding her gun into her holster. Exhaling, she turns to face him. “Thank you.”

“For?” He cocks his head to the side, waiting.

She arches an eyebrow and replies sardonically, “Taking in strays.”

He holds her stare for a moment before nodding and waving a dismissive hand.

“Why did you come up here in the first place?”

He shrugs. “Employee’s leaving. Common courtesy and all that jazz. Pepper should be proud.”

“She should,” she says. “Well. This has been fun.”

“Liar.” He gives her a crooked grin. “But that’s okay. We’ll keep this room free for you, should you ever decide that you prefer the more luxurious, honest, private life.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She huffs a laugh, “At least your tower’s still standing this time.”

“The tower stands,” he agrees. “So does the offer.”

She quirks the corner of her mouth. “You won’t hear me say this again, but it has been mostly a pleasure. For half the time, at least.”

He smirks, ushering her out the door. “Until next time, Hill.”


End file.
